I had lost my faith in teachers
when my son hit second grade. My faith then hit a new low as he entered junior
high, when a former teacher truly disappointed me.
I hated that no one knew how to
help my son, and no one seemed to care. Time and time again, I’d feel lost,
helpless. The break-room gossip, I supposed, had to be how undisciplined we
were as parents. It was so far from reality.
Some were kinder than others, but
I felt as though no one wanted to inspire my son to learn. All they wanted was
for me to medicate him or get them out of their class. Some pitied us. They
were the nice ones. A few I call plain ignorant, and really, I feel sorry for
them.
One – a supposed born-again
Christian – was the worst. And we had her twice! She appeared so two-faced to
me. The saccharine dripped from her lips, but it would soon turn to venom when
it came to our IEPs. I knew deep down this teacher held a grudge for
something my Aspie didn’t filter. The feeling was confirmed by the mommy gossip
chain. Talking about me when others could overhear! Seriously, is this woman
still in junior high? I wanted to leave a card on her desk with WWJD on it.
At least I finally met one
teacher who would get my son and really inspire him to try hard in the subjects
that gave him trouble: reading and writing. I have to say if she didn’t
appear when she did, I don’t know how I would survive the daily challenges of
elementary school. She was amazing. I plan a blog praising her later.
As he gets older, I’m finding a
few his teachers have had Aspies in their class or in the family. This has been
good for my son because they view him more compassionately and they are more
willing to try alternative ways of teaching him. Wish they were the rule, not
the exception.
